


Take It Back

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-12
Updated: 2007-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-26 10:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Summer after the Order of the Phoenix. Ron Weasley's acting a bit weird."Could I have your telephone number?"It took Hermione a moment to register what Ron had asked. He had asked it in a completely normal way; just an ordinary guy asking an ordinary girl for her contact details.That was the problem, Ron Weasley was not an ordinary guy, he was a Wizard, from a long line, and large family of wizards.Written Prior to HBP, (Beta'ed by Sandy)





	1. Of Howlers & Telephones

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Take it back.

By alloy 

Hermione watched Harry leave platform Nine and Three Quarters, his aunt and uncle clearly intimidated by the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Could I have your telephone number?"

It took Hermione a moment to register what Ron had asked. He had asked it in a completely normal way; just an ordinary guy asking an ordinary girl for her contact details.

That was the problem, Ron Weasley was not an ordinary guy, he was a Wizard, from a long line, and large family of wizards. His first, and to her knowledge, only attempt at using the ‘Fellytone’, as he persistently called it, had ended in abject disaster, as he had shouted through the line at Harry Potter’s uncle, and then been cut off. It had resulted in some unpleasantness for Harry.

"Hermione?"

"Sorry, Ron," she said, as she cast about her person for a scrap of parchment, and a pencil. "You caught me by surprise."

"Sorry," he said, grinning. "Should I have said, ‘Fellytone’?"

Hermione found what she was looking for, and wrote down the number, "Why not just send an owl?" she said.

"I miss hearing your voice."

Hermione swallowed hard, Ron had been acting very ‘un-Ron’ like, ever since he had woken up in the Hogwarts infirmary, following their adventure in the Department of Mysteries.

She glanced down at his arms. She knew that the long sleeves of his shirt hid scars of that night. She herself didn’t have a scar, just an occasional pain, which surfaced at inopportune times.

"Are you alright, Ron?"

"If I hear your voice I’ll know you’re alright, OK?" He didn’t seem to want to meet her eye, but she noticed the slight shake in his hands as he took the scrap of parchment from her.

"Where will you phone from?"

"The village, the muggle post office, that’s where I tried to phone Harry from."

"Remember you don’t need to shout? It’s like an extendable ear."

Ron chuckled. "That’s the best explanation for it I’ve ever heard. You ought to teach Muggle Studies."

"You never took Muggle Studies."

"Didn’t have to, I had you," Ron’s ears turned red, "and Harry, of course."

Their awkward conversation was stifled by the appearance of Hermione’s parents. Ron exchanged greetings with them. Hermione was still trying to gather her thoughts, when she heard Ron ask, "Dr. Granger, would you mind if I telephoned Hermione, over the summer?"

"Not at all, Ron, just don’t be put off by the answering machine that’s all."

"What’s an answering machine, sir?"

Dennis Granger looked amused at Ron’s question, so Hermione stepped in, and explained. "It’s a device which answers the phone if someone’s not at home, and asks you to leave a message. Then it records your voice, so that someone can listen to it later."

"Records your voice, like a howler, you mean?"

Hermione smiled, Ron grasped things very quickly when he applied himself. "Yes, like that, only you can play it back many times."

Suddenly Ron smiled. "That would be very useful in school," he said. "We could record Professor Binns' lessons." His smile turned into a mischievous grin. "We could play it back to Harry when he has trouble sleeping."

Hermione was still chuckling when she climbed into her parents' car. A sharp pain quieted her a bit, and as her father made his way through the evening traffic, she sank into her own thoughts. Ron had been a little strange at the station. He was still Ron, but he seemed to hiding something. ‘Like when he was trying out for the Keeper position, and didn’t what anyone to know he was practicing,’ she thought to herself.

"Hermione, dear, are you listening?"

"What? Sorry, Mum, I was just lost in thought for a moment."

"I was just saying that young Ron Weasley’s grown up to be a handsome young man."

"Yeah, Mum, I suppose he has."

From the front seat of the Volvo, her mother gave her a funny look.

"Do you fancy him, dear?"

Hermione smiled blandly. "He’s just a friend, Mum."

**********

  
"Hermione?"

"I hope this recorder thingie is working."

There was silence for a while.

"I hope this doesn’t sound like a howler."

Hermione could hear Ron panting as if he had been running hard.

"I just wanted to tell you I got home OK. Umm, hope you did, too."

There was a click as the line was disconnected.

Ron had left three more messages in the course of the week, all disjointed and boasting thoroughly Ron-like confusion. The messages had been left at strange times during the day, and in all of them she could hear Ron struggling to breathe normally as if after a long run. Hermione suspected that he was sneaking away from the Burrow when his mum’s back was turned and racing to the village to make the call.

His messages didn’t actually tell her anything, other than that he was alive, and it was obvious had something he urgently wanted to tell her. The messages had been a great source of amusement to her parents.

"So he’s just a friend, dear?" her mum had said knowingly, and Hermione had launched into a lecture, as to why Ron’s messages were so bizarre.

"He’s a wizard Mum, and he’s very nervous with technology and, of course, with all the Muggles in the Post Office. I don’t think he’s actually sure that I’m getting the messages."

Her mother had laughed, "I don’t know, dear, your father used to leave messages like that, too, and he’s not a wizard." Her father at least had had the good grace to blush.

After a week’s holiday with her, Hermione’s parents returned to their dental practice, leaving her to her own devices. That Monday she resolved to spend all her time next to the telephone, in case Ron phoned. She had settled down in the living room with a selection of books when the doorbell rang.

Cautiously pulling out her wand, Hermione looked through the spy hole to see a very nervous freckled red head shifting from foot to foot.

"Ron! What are you doing here?" she said, opening the door.

"I… er, ran out of Muggle money for the telephone," he said.

Hermione was suddenly very nervous; Ron could have sent his owl, Pig, with a note telling her that. He didn’t have to come in person.

She gestured for him to come into the house. "Does your mum know you’re here?"

"Mum’s not there," he said. "I left a note with Ginny."

"Would you like some tea?" Hermione asked. Tea was good, tea was normal. ‘Just a friend coming over for a spot of tea,’ Hermione smiled to herself. Tea held the social fabric of the English together.

"Yeah, uh… tea would be great."

Hermione busied herself with putting on the kettle, and finding the teapot and the cups, when Ron spoke again.

"I thought we had a good year."

Hermione stopped and looked at him. It had been a horrible year; Hogwarts had felt like a prison, on top of the pressure of O.W.L.S., as well as their horrible excursion to London.

Ron sensed her confusion. "Us, I mean, we didn’t fight very much at all."

They hadn’t, not really; the stress of the year had seemed to throw Hermione and Ron together, and she had come to rely of his comforting presence, even if they were trading insults.

"We rowed a bit."

"That’s not fighting for us," he said. "Not really. You call me a prat, and I call you ‘a know it all’, and we carry on." He smiled. "That’s just us, isn’t it?"

"You’ve thought about this a lot."

"I think about you a lot." Hermione turned around, looked away from him, tried to focus on something outside the kitchen window, anything.

"I’m sorry," he continued, "for every time I made you cry, except maybe the first Halloween. I’m sorry for not standing up to Fred and George, for not backing you up when Harry wanted to go to the Ministry."

"That’s not your fault. I should have been stronger."

"I should have stood by you," Ron’s voice seemed to become hoarse. "I just want you to know I’ll do that in the future."

"Ron, don’t, just do what you think is best." He didn’t seem to hear her.

"I’m sorry about Viktor," he whispered. "I can’t help being jealous. I’m not Harry Potter; I can’t compete with Viktor Krum."

"I’m sorry if this ruins our friendship."

Hermione felt her hair being moved away, then the lightest of teasing touches, the softest of kisses on the nape of her neck.

"I’m sorry I can’t take this back."

Hermione turned; she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. "Don’t be sorry," she said, reaching up into his hair, pulling him down to her. "I can give it back."

Fin.

 


	2. Getting It Right

Take It Back Chapter 2 : Getting It Right.  
  
By alloy  
  
(Beta'ed by Sandy)  
  
Ron moved Hermione’s hair gently away, then lowered his head, finding the nape of her neck, tasting her.  
  
"I’m sorry I can’t take this back." That was all really. He couldn’t force her to love him; he just desperately hoped that they could maintain some sort of friendship, that he hadn’t thrown everything away for one silly impulsive perfect moment.  
  
Hermione turned raising her hand. ‘To slap me,’ He thought.  
  
"Don’t be sorry," she said, reaching up into his hair pulling him down to her. "I can give it back."  
  
They bumped their noses, and impulsively Ron darted out his tongue to lick the tip of hers. Ron thought he had broken the moment as Hermione crinkled her nose.  
  
“Tickles,” she said, and then she smiled.  
  
Ron knew that smile. He longed for it. It was the smile that said Hermione Granger was about throw caution to the wind, about to break rules. How Ron loved that smile.  
  
She took his head in both hands, and moved it deliberately so that their noses wouldn’t bump. Their lips met, and Ron tasted the cherry flavoured lip ice that he had given her because she her lips were always chapped from biting. Then Hermione opened her mouth, and he tasted mint and cinnamon. Time seemed to stand still as he felt her tongue tasting, and they shared the breath in their bodies.  
  
Ron wrapped his arms around her, wanting to hold her tight, to hold her forever. Then abruptly she broke away, pain on her face.  
  
“Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” In the back of Ron’s mind a ridiculous fear emerged. Perhaps she was allergic to kissing, or to him, or perhaps just to kissing him. Perhaps he would have to spend the rest of his life watching her snog other blokes, because kissing him made her sick to her stomach.  
  
“It’s my chest,” she said. “From the curse. It’ll pass.” Then she smiled. “It’s gone.”  
  
Hermione put her arms around Ron’s neck. “Why do you taste of chocolate, Ron?”  
  
Ron felt the heat rise to his face. “Well… erm, on the way over, I had a few frogs… for courage. I finally got an Agrippa card, look.” Ron reached into his pocket and then stopped, mentally kicking himself. “It’s a bit childish, isn’t it?”  
  
Hermione kissed him again, and thoughts of chocolate frogs were forgotten, as Ron became acutely aware of how thin her summer dress was.  
  
Of their own accord, total beyond his violation, his hands drifted down her back, and cupped her buttocks. Hermione tensed for a moment before deepening their kiss. She finally broke away leaving him breathless.  
  
“Hmmm,” she said into his neck. “I like chocolate courage.”  
  
“Ahem.”  
  
Ron tried to leap away from Hermione, but she kept her arms around his neck.  
  
“Hi Mum,” Hermione said.  
  
Panic rose in Ron’s chest. It couldn’t get much worse than this. Hermione’s mum had caught them snogging, and worse still, she must have seen his hands all over Hermione’s bum!  
  
“Mum, I’ve decided I rather fancy Ron.”  
  
“I see,” said Sylvia Granger as she began to unpack groceries on the kitchen counter. “I’d say he likes you too by the looks of things. Staying for lunch, Ron?”  
  
It took Ron a moment to realize that he had been addressed. “This isn’t what it looks like. I promise you.”  
  
Sylvia stopped and looked Ron in the eye. He held her gaze, but swallowed nervously. “That’s a great pity Ron, because it looked like you were both enjoying yourselves.” She resumed unpacking the groceries. “Of course you could have been trying to get something out of Hermione’s eye.” Sylvia paused and shook her head. “I don’t think so because both of you had your eyes closed.”  
  
“You aren’t angry?” Ron asked tentatively.  
  
“Were you forcing your attentions on Hermione?”  
  
“I’d never do that!”  
  
“Well then, I’m rather pleased that she’s found a nice boy like you.” With that Sylvia took out a chopping board, and began preparing a salad.  
  
“Come on,” Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand pulling him from the kitchen. “We need to talk.”  
  
“Hermione.”  
  
“Yes, Mum?”  
  
“You can do all the talking you want in the lounge. Understood?”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes even as she replied. “Yes, Mum.” And then she muttered, “As if we’re going to do that straight off, honestly.”  
  
Ron’s mouth felt dry, so dry in fact that he resisted the temptation to ask what ‘that’ was. In fact, if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t that keen to find out, yet.  
  
Hermione lead him to a comfortable couch, she pressed down on his shoulders, causing him to sit, and sat down herself. Ron became acutely aware her summer dress had ridden up to reveal the smallest amount of inner thigh. Ron’s mouth felt as dry as if he had never drunken anything in his entire life.  
  
“Ron, what are you looking at?”  
  
“Your skin’s very white,” he managed to croak. “Soft.” Of its own volition, his hand reached out, and seemed like an agonizing eternity before he could regain control of it and jerked it back.  
  
Hermione smiled almost to herself, and the dress shifted just the faintest bit up. Then she frowned, and tugged it down. “Honestly Ronald, you can’t lose all cognitive function just because a girl shows you some thigh.”  
  
Ron closed his eyes, and breathed deeply in an effort to regain his equilibrium. That was a mistake; her natural scent, unfettered by perfumes, was incredibly intoxicating. “You’re not just some girl,” he said.  
  
It must have been the right thing to say, because he felt her feather light touch on his cheek. “Oh, Ronald,” she sighed, running the outside of her cupped hand down his jaw line to the faint stubble on his chin.  
  
Her touch disappeared as he opened his eyes. “What do you want from this relationship?” she said primly.  
  
“Ok,” he said finding some moisture to swallow. “First off, I think we need to promise not to snog other people. Like Vicky, er I mean Viktor, and…” he thought for a moment, “Lavender for example.”  
  
“Exclusivity.”  
  
“Ah, yeah. Exclusivity, that’s it.”  
  
“Yes, but what do you want, Ron? For us I mean. How do you see the future?”  
  
“Well, I guess we’ll finish school, get some N.E.W.T.S., well you’ll get lots, I’ll get some, and then I’ll get a job, and maybe you’ll study some more, and after a while we’ll get married, and have some kids.” He paused. “There’ll be snogging and you know, other stuff in between of course.”  
  
“What if I don’t want to get married?” Hermione asked quietly.  
  
The simple question sent a chill through Ron’s blood and he responded, the only way he knew how, angrily!  
  
“Damnit, Hermione,” he whispered hoarsely, mindful of her mother in the kitchen. “What do you want from me? I’m a Weasley. It’s what we do! We marry the girl we love, have children and send them off to Hogwarts.” He found his voice breaking. “That’s the ‘happy ever after.’” He shut his eyes turning away from her not willing to let her see the tears of his shattered dream; a dream that had seemed so tangible a moment before.  
  
He felt her touch on his face again. “That’s not how it’s done, Ron. Guys are supposed to be afraid of commitment.” Hermione’s voice sounded funny. “We girls have got to tease you, and make you want us, and force you to say you love us, and beg commitment from you, and…” Ron realized that the funny sound was Hermione struggling to hold back her own tears. “You’re breaking all the rules, Ron.”  
  
“I don’t give a damn about the rules.”  
  
“Neither do I.”  
  
Ron opened his eyes. “I’ve made you cry again.” He dug into his pocket and found a tatty but clean hanky. He used it to wipe her tears. “It’s only a rough plan. We can change it if you want. Add some shagging.”  
  
“Ronald!” Hermione said laughing. “You’re incorrigible!”  
  
“I understand the words you know? Even if I don’t always use them.”  
  
“I know,” Hermione blushed. “We could start the plan now. The snogging, not the shagging I mean.”  
  
“What about your mom?”  
  
I think mom will be fine as long as your hands are outside my clothes.”  
  
“It’s a short dress.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Very thin material.”  
  
“That’s right,” she giggled.  
  
“I think I can manage.”  
  
That didn’t stop him from trying. He knew, she knew, he would. He ran his hand up the back of her leg, and got daringly close to her knickers before, without breaking their kiss, she had slapped him back, and he yielded just as he knew, she knew he would. The kiss seemed to last for hours.  
  
“Having a nice talk dear?”  
  
They broke apart reluctantly, both blushing. “Very nice, Mum.”  
  
“Good. I’ve brought you some lunch.”  
  
It was when they settled down to eat that the head appeared in the fireplace.  
  
“Ron?”  
  
“Gin?”  
  
“Ron! Listen, Mum’s on the warpath. When she found your note, she had kittens. Couldn’t you have been more specific than ‘business to take care of’? She’s checked Harry’s house, and Grimwauld place, and Hermione’s house is…”  
  
The faint puff of air on Ron’s neck told him that his mother had apparated into the living room behind him.  
  
“RONALD WEASLEY JUST WHAT DO YOU….”  
  
“Hello, Molly.”  
  
His mother was caught; caught between the desire to berate her son, and the need to make up for barging into Sylvia Granger’s living room. Manners won out.  
  
“Er, Hello Sylvia, I’m… I’m so sorry to barge in like this, but Ron disappeared leaving a very silly note, and I’ve been quite beside myself with worry.”  
  
“Perfectly understandable Molly, you do look distraught. I think a cup of tea would make you feel better. Hermione started brewing a pot earlier, but it seems she was distracted.” Sylvia turned to the fireplace. “Perhaps Ginny would like to join us. She can come through the fireplace, can’t she?”  
  
“Absolutely,” said Molly leaning into the fireplace to pull her youngest child through. “Best she be where I can keep an eye on her.” Calmer now, she turned toward Ron. “You gave me such fright, Ron.”  
  
“Sorry Mum.”  
  
“Did you do what you wanted to do?”  
  
“Yes mum, Hermione and I worked out a few things.”  
  
“Well it’s about bloody time. You’re almost a man; you’re expected to start getting it right.”  
  
Molly Weasley blushed as red as any of her children ever had. Chuckling, Sylvia took pity and led her and Ginny into the kitchen.  
  
“She’s wrong you know,” said Hermione. “There’s lots of things you’ve done right over the years.”  
  
“Lot’s of things I’ve got wrong.”  
  
“Kissing me wasn’t one of them.”  
  
“I got it right, then?”  
  
Hermione laughed. “Ron. You got it perfect.”  
  
Fin.


	3. Take Advantage

Take Advantage. (after Getting It Right)

By alloy

Hermione Granger sat on her parent’s living room couch with her new boyfriend. Her Mother and Ron’s had disappeared into the kitchen for tea. They were holding hands now, a rather innocuous activity, but none the less, momentous given the time they had spent avoiding it. The red headed young man sitting facing her wasn’t perfect, far from it, and after five years of friendship, Hermione knew pretty much all his faults. On a scale of one to ten, Hermione Granger rated Ron Weasley a very solid twelve and a half.

The scale wasn’t perfect of course; on the one end, Severus Snape was a consistent over rated zero, on the other, Remus Lupin served up a rather dishy nine point nine (Ten being an impossible ideal).

That her thoughts didn’t entirely make sense didn’t alarm Hermione overly much. Her thoughts sometimes didn’t, where Ron was concerned, and it was especially difficult to think when his thumb was making small circles on the inside of her knee.

Hermione squashed a spike of disappointed as Ron took his hand from her knee; her heart leapt in her chest, as he cupped her cheek. "I love you," he mouthed.

She was glad he hadn’t said it out loud, glad he had voiced it silently. Hermione leant forward, putting her head next to his, so that their chins touched; hers smooth, his beginning to acquire the attributes of manhood. "I love you too," she whispered, then she giggled. "Ron! Stop looking down my dress!"

"I can’t see anything," he protested, joining her in whisper. "Nothing important anyway."

"You’re a cad and a lecher, Ron Weasley."

"There you go with big words again."

"Those aren’t big words."

"You know what I mean."

Hermione sat back trying to put a little distance between Ron and herself. There were still things she needed to say, things she needed to ask before she could submit to her overwhelming rational desire to snog him senseless.

"Why do you let people think you’re stupid, when I know you’re not?"

"People don’t expect much when they think you can’t do much."

"So you’re a chronic underachiever?"

Ron tried to gather her closer to him but she resisted. She knew if she got too close to him, her resistance would crumble. She managed to hold his hands between them.

"I’m just lazy, I reckon."

"Well, I won’t accept that, and you know it. I saw what you can do this year, and I expect it to continue."

"I didn’t do much."

"Ron, you studied very hard this year, and you did very well at Quidditch, and…" She paused, gauging her next words, "I saw how you helped the firsties this year."

"All I did was call them names."

"Nonsense, Ron. Don’t think I didn’t notice when you lent Pig to Jimmy Knott because he was too scared to go to the owlery, or all those nights you helped Beverly Kane with her potions homework or Gary Marshall with his transfiguration."

"I told him to come to you."

"He did, and he said you explained it better."

"Well, firsties work is easy compared to O.W.L.S."

"Why are you blushing, Ron?" She didn’t wait for him to reply. "Is it because I caught you out?"

"Caught him at what Hermione?"

"Daddy!"

Hermione bounced off the couch to give her father a hug, and dragged him toward the couch.

"This had better be good," her father said. "You haven’t called me ‘Daddy’ in years."

"I’ve caught Ron, Dad, or he’s caught me, which amounts to the same thing really."

"Indeed it does," Ron had stood, and Ron fidgeted nervously as Dennis Granger ran his eyes up and down his lanky form. "Hmmm, no earrings, or visible tattoos. Do you wear makeup?"

"What? No sir!"

"Good." Dennis Granger winked at Ron. "That will suffice for the time being. Where’s your mother, Hermione?"

"In the kitchen, having tea with Ron’s Mum."

"Wonderful, I shall regale her with tales of how her son was groping my daughter."

"I wasn’t," Ron said blushing. "I mean…" he nodded at the door through which Hermione’s father had disappeared. "Not so he could see anyway."

"He was teasing you silly," Hermione laughed. "You should have seen your face."

"Well he’s your dad isn’t he, I’m supposed to be nervous."

"I’m glad that you are Ron, it shows that you respect him." Hermione moved closer to Ron, putting her arms around his neck. "I want to talk to you about what he said," she paused and swallowed nervously, "about you touching me." Ron’s hands, which had come to rest on her derriere, jerked away. "I like it, I mean the way you’ve done it so far, is…nice," Hermione smiled. Telling Ron that his hands drove rational thought from her head was not a good idea. "If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you."

"And I’ll stop."

"I know you will Ron, and I trust you…" His hands had returned, squeezing her cheeks. "You can’t touch me in public," she said it quickly, to get it out, while she could still think it.

"You mean I can’t hug you?" She hadn’t intended for there to be hurt in his voice. "You let Harry hug you."

"I’m sorry Ron, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, I don’t want you to touch me like that in public."

Ron sighed. "Merlin ‘Mione, I know that. I wasn’t going to. I wasn’t going to snog you senseless in the common room either. You’re not some tart like Lavender, you’re special ‘Mione."

"What did you just call me?"

"’Mione," Ron grinned. "Hermione’s such a mouthful. It’s beautiful, but a mouthful, so for years I thought of you as ‘Mione."

"It sounds like, ‘Mine."

"It’s meant to," Ron growled. "‘Mione"

"Are you trying to be sexy?"

"Yes. Is it working?"

In response, she kissed him, holding his head in her hands, Hermione daringly wrapped one leg around his. "Yes," she said when they had finally exhausted the air in their bodies.

"See! I told you Molly, your son is taking advantage of my little girl." Hermione recognised the humour in her father’s voice, but never the less she felt Ron stiffen in her arms.

"Ronald!"

"It’s not true Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, quickly unwrapping herself.

"And what is happening then, Hermione?" asked Sylvia, her raised eyebrow betrayed by the faintest of smiles.

"Well Mum, I’m pretty sure I’m taking advantage of Ron."

Molly laughed. "I should warn you about Weasley males," she said. "But you might not listen to me, and I am rather looking forward to having you as a daughter-in-law."

Dennis Granger coughed awkwardly. "A little premature don’t you think Molly?"

Molly Weasley smiled and gripped Ron’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Perhaps Dennis, but you can’t blame me for wanting the best possible match for my son." She gently shook his head.

Hermione blushed despite herself, even as Ron tried to tug his chin free. "Mum!" he protested.

Molly released him, rubbing her fingers together. "When did you last shave Ron? You can’t expect to kiss a girl with a face full of whiskers."

"It’s quite nice actually," said Hermione, before she could stop herself.

Both Hermione’s parents and Ron’s mother turned toward her. Behind them, Ginny was trying desperately not to laugh.

"I don’t know if Ron should stay here for the rest of the summer Dennis. I’m not certain what Hermione has planned for him."

A surge of excitement raced through Hermione. Ron, here, hers alone for the entire summer.

"Wow." said Ron. "Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

"Just returning the hospitality your parents have shown Hermione, Ron."

"Wonder what we're going do."

"Hermione felt a strange feeling come over her. There was no homework to do, not even any forward reading until their O.W.L. results came. For the first time the summer stretched in front of Hermione, teeming with possibility. She leant into Ron, the feeling grew as Ron took on her weight effortlessly. In front of his mother, his sister, in front of her parents, she whispered into his ear.

"Take advantage."


	4. Tell Me Everything

"Tell me everything." (after Taking advantage)

by alloy

Ginny Weasley had feigned an urgent need for the bathroom, refusing to Floo home before she could relieved herself, and so Hermione had, had to show her the guest facilities. Ginny had dragged her into the bathroom, and shutting the door had said. "Tell me everything."

"About what?" Hermione asked.

"About you and Ron!" Ginny issued a rather unladylike snort of exasperation. "Look he’s been moping all the time since we got home. He’s nicked all my muggle money for the fellytone, but he says he never gets to speak to you, just some silly machine that makes him leave a message, and he’s deathly afraid it sounds like a howler." Ginny paused for much needed breath. "Have you been getting his messages?"

"Yes I’ve been getting them, but I had no way of replying."

"So? What happened?"

"Well I got his messages, but I was always out when he phoned. He phoned at such odd times."

"He’s been waiting for Mom to go out and then racing to the village."

Hermione nodded. She had suspected as much.

Then today he gave me this note for Mum, and flooed off to Diagon Alley before the sun had even risen.

"How did he get here from Diagon Alley?"

"He must have walked."

"He couldn’t have Ginny, not across half of London."

"Knight Bus?"

"He said he’d run out of money."

"Out of muggle money Hermione, he had some real money."

"He arrived just before lunch."

"That’s the Knight Bus for you, sometimes it takes ages." Ginny leant forward. "What happened when he got here?"

"Ron seemed really weird when he arrived, and I started to make some tea. I thought it might calm him a bit, and he was going one about last year, and all the things he did wrong."

"Which are a lot." Interrupted Ginny.

"Not really, Gin. Ron really worked hard last year, none of the horrible stuff was Ron’s fault."

"Never mind that, what did he do then?"

"He kissed me."

"Oh my goodness! How? Where? On the lips."

Hermione raised her hand to her neck, moving her hair away. "Here."

"Oh my." Murmured Ginny. "I didn’t think he had it in him."

"It made me weak at the knees." Hermione‘s voice had taken on a dreamy quality. "And then we kissed properly."

"With tongue?"

"With tongue." Hermione nodded, "And Ron." Hermione blushed. "Ron put his hands on my bum."

"Did you slap him?"

"No, I…I rather enjoyed it, but." Hermione giggled. "That’s when my mum came in."

"Oh no! What did she do?"

"Nothing really, just started to unpack the groceries. Oh and I told her that I fancied Ron."

"Only fancy him?" Ginny held up her hand stifling Hermione’s response. "He loves you. He’s been totally mad over you for years. It’s serious for him Hermione, totally. If it’s not serious for you then you should break his heart now, rather than later. He’s not much Hermione, but he’s my brother, and I love him, and I don’t want to see him hurt."

"Don’t say that." Said Hermione quietly.

"Say what?"

"Don’t ever say Ron’s not much. The twins make him feel that way all the time, and it gets so that he doesn’t believe in himself, and I won’t tolerate it anymore."

A grin appeared on Ginny’s face. "So you do love him?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"And you’re going to marry him?"

Hermione laughed. "Give us a chance Gin, we only had our first kiss today."

"So you’ve never written Hermione Weasley down on a piece of parchment just to see what it looks like?"

"Of course I have." Hermione lowered her voice. "Hermione Weasley, Hermione Granger-Weasley, Hermione Weasley-Granger." She sighed. "Mrs. Ronald Weasley."

"That’s so old fashioned."

"Well I only did that one once."

A light tapping on the door interrupted them. "Hermione dear. Ron’s gone through the fireplace home to collect some clothes. Molly wants Ginny to follow him as soon as she’s finished with her." there was a chuckle outside the door. "Business."

"Alright Mum."

"You know Hermione I think our parents know a lot more than they let on."

"They’d have to wouldn’t they? Having done this all themselves at some time or the other."

"Good point." Ginny paused. "That means Mum knows I’ve got it bad for Harry."

"Gin, even Ron knows you’ve got it bad for Harry."

They continued their conversation as the exited the bathroom.

"He won’t tell Harry will he?"

"No he won’t. He doesn’t want to jinx it."

"What?"

"Ron’s been dropping hints to Harry for ages, but sometimes Harry’s even denser than Ron."

"But he hasn’t liked any of my boyfriends."

"It’s a question of trust Gin. Ron feels he’s got to trust the boys you go out with. You’re his only sister, and now that the twins have left school he feels he’s totally responsible for you."

"I can look after myself."

"Maybe, but Ron really feels that the rest of your brother’s are looking to him to make sure you’re all right."

"Ok Hermione so what living breathing males would my brother approve of?"

"Well he trusts Hagrid I suppose."

"Below seven foot. I’m not tall like Ron."

"Well there’s Professor Dumbledore."

"Below thirty years old."

"Professor Lupin."

"He’s over thirty."

"But he is dishy." Ginny nodded and both girls giggled.

"Well we’re down to two left."

"Only two."

"Only two."

Ginny sighed. "Neville’s the other one isn’t he?"

"Afraid so?"

"He’s not a bad bloke. He’s just…"

"Not Harry Potter."

"Or Ron Weasley?" Ginny replied.

Hermione smiled. "Or Ron Weasley."

It was Ron Weasley who appeared in the fireplace that very instant as they enter the living room.

Sylvia Granger was waiting in anticipation, vacuum cleaner in hand, and promptly began clean up the errant soot, and bits of coal.

"Mum says it’s time to get home Gin."

Ginny climbed into the fireplace in mock dejection. Then she grinned at Hermione and shouted. "Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes." Before disappearing in green flames.

"That didn’t sound like the Burrow?" Said Sylvia Granger.

"No." Groaned Hermione. "It wasn’t!"

Ron sat down on the couch head in his hands. "She’s gone to the twins." He croaked.

"Is that bad?" Sylvia asked.

Ron just groaned again.

"It’s very bad mum." Hermione said.

"She’ll tell them everything!"

 

 


	5. Worth It

  
Author's notes: A little Gred and Forge.  


* * *

Worth It

by alloy

George Weasley was not pleased to see his sister appear in the fireplace of the shop he co-owned with his twin brother Fred. He was particularly not pleased to see the grin on her face. He knew that grin well; he saw it often enough on Fred’s face, and on his own in the mirror. On Ginny’s face, it worried him. George understood Fred’s deviousness because he shared it. He even understood his younger brother Ron’s on those rare moments when he exhibited it, but Ginny? Ginny added a feminine touch to it, which while devastatingly effective, bordered sometimes on the sadistic.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a little more harshly than he intended.

"Well it’s nice to see you too, George."

"Does Mum know you’re here?" George already knew the answer to that. His mother always let them know when Ron or Ginny were planning to visit the shop. "Listen Gin, you can’t just go flooing off to Merlin knows where. Mum was going spare this morning trying to find Ron, and if she finds you gone too…"

Ginny interrupted, "Who are you and what have you done with George?" She continued with out giving him an opportunity to reply, "If you’ve finished playing Dad, George, I’ll tell you where Mum eventually found Ron."

George turned back to the shelves he had been packing when she arrived. "At Hermione’s house," he said.

George rather enjoyed his sister’s expression of shock and amazement. "How did you know?"

"Tom, from the Leaky Cauldron said he saw him catch the Knight Bus. So Fred summoned it and asked Stan. Mum didn’t wait for us to finish investigating, she apparated away too quickly."

"Do you know what he was doing at her house?"

"Talking about Harry I suspect. I imagine they’re worried about him after Sirius’s death."

"They were SNOGGING!"

George stopped dead. He looked back at his sister. "He felt her up," she said with a grin.

"FRED!" he yelled, before turning back to his sister.

"What is it?" said Fred, appearing down the stairs.

"Ikkle Ronniekins finally made his move. Now Gin, you will tell your dear big brothers everything."

"You two are such sluts for gossip."

"Now Gin, that’s hardly the attitude to take. Your brother’s happiness is at stake."

"Who’s? Yours or Ron’s?"

"All your brother’s Gin, because it would be terrible if we killed you out of FRUSTRATION!"

It was Fred who moved, while George spoke, coming forward to try and grab her. Ginny saw him coming and skipped to the side. The smirk died on her lips as George gripped her gently but firmly.

"Spill Gin, or we tickle."

"You can’t do that, I’m not a little girl anymore, I’m almost a woman…" her voice died as Fred approached her, wiggling his fingers.

"We don’t care."

"All right, all right," Ginny pulled herself free of her brother’s hands and tried to straighten her clothes.

"Ron’s been trying to fellytone her all week, but he just couldn’t seem to get through. So he decided to visit her."

"Well?"

"According to Hermione, he went on about how he was sorry he hadn’t been a better friend. Probably means he should have backed her up with you lot."

"He should have," said Fred.

"We were way out of line," continued George.

"Then his kissed her on the back of the neck. Here." she gestured.

"Smooth," Fred nodded in approval. "Very smooth."

"Are we to assume Miss Granger enjoyed his attentions?"

"Oh, yes. Hermione couldn’t wait to tell me about it," Ginny lowered her voice to a whisper. "He even felt her bum!"

George sat back down on a stool and wiped a crocodile tear from his eye. "Our little brother. A man."

"The best part was when Mum finally caught up with him, and Hermione’s mum rescued him. I saw that part."

"Hang on a moment," said Fred. "Does Mum know you’re here?"

Ginny shook her head. "I was supposed to Floo straight home after Ron came back from fetching his things."

"Fetching his things?"

"He’s spending the rest of the summer at Hermione’s house."

"And you’ll end up spending the rest of your holiday in your bedroom if you don’t floo home now," Said George.

"We don’t want Mum to get upset do we?" said Fred ushering her toward the fireplace.

"So," said Ginny grinning. "What are you two going to do to them?"

"Why Ginny, we are hurt that you would think that Fred and I would even contemplate playing a prank on Ickkle Ronnikins, and his young lady."

"So you are planning something?" said Ginny as she stepped into the fireplace.

"You’ll have to wait and see."

Ginny grinned. "The Burrow!" she shouted throwing the floo powder, and disappearing in a flash of green flames.

"She’s good," Fred said. "Very, very good."

"But sadly, no sense of proper timing," said George.

"I think it’s a girl thing. I notice the girls who played Quidditch could be much more vicious than the guys."

"And Ginny plays Quidditch viciously."

"I was going to say ‘very well.’"

"No you weren’t."

The twins laughed, as another person appeared in the fireplace.

"Has Ginny gone?" asked Ron brushing the soot off.

"Straight home to Mummy."

"Good."

The twins eyed their younger brother cautiously. There seemed to be an air of grim determination about him. "I’ve come to warn you," he said, "to leave Hermione alone. You guys can pick on me all you like, but you leave her alone, understand?"

"Or what?" asked George.

"One of you will have to explain to Mum why the other has had his head bashed in."

Fred cocked an eyebrow. "Relax Ron, we weren’t planning on doing anything."

George examined his fingernails nonchalantly. "Our little sister thinks we have something devious planned, but in fact we don’t."

"How can I trust you?"

"You can’t," said Fred. "That’s the beauty of the whole arrangement."

George clapped his hands together, "Onto more serious things. How exactly are you planning on wooing Miss Granger?"

"Er, well I hadn’t really given it much thought."

The twins each wrapped an arm around Ron’s shoulder. "This is why you have come to us. As men of the world, we’ll see you right."

Ron snorted.

"Now, now, little brother might we suggest dinner, or even lunch?"

"Trinkets, something for her hair perhaps?"

Ron got an elbow in the ribs, "You like her hair don’t you?"

"Perfume?"

"Better let us choose it this time."

"Guys, I’d love to do all those things, but I haven’t any money."

"Never fear Ron, due to our genius, Weasley’s are poor no longer. We shall sponsor you in your noble pursuit of love. What do you say George, fifteen Galleons?"

"What?" spluttered Ron.

"Fred I’m shocked! This is Miss Hermione Granger we’re talking about."

"Guys?"

"You’re right George, I’m ashamed of myself, at least twenty, because…" both twins rounded on Ron.

"Remember this Ron," said George nodding to Fred.

"SHE’S WORTH IT!"

Fin.

 

 


	6. Sorting It Out

Sorting It Out.

By alloy

To tell the truth Ron was skeptical. Twenty galleons! Twenty Galleons, the money sack heavy in his hand, all to spend on Hermione.

"And only on Hermione." Said Fred. "We don’t want to catch you going into Quiddich supplies."

"She’s expecting me back soon."

"Best be quick then."

Ron, it seems, was stunned into immobility.

"Oh for Merlin’s sake." Said George. "LEE!"

Lee Jordan stuck his head around the partition that divided the shop.

"What’s up?"

"You’re on your own for a while mate. We’re taking Ron out to get some nice things for his young lady."

Lee cocked an eyebrow, black against his ebony face. "Wouldn’t be a bossy young muggleborn would it?"

George winked. "Mind how you talk about our future sister-in-law." He said as he and Fred steered Ron out the back entrance of their shop.

"So tell me Ron." Said Fred as they scurried along Diagon Alley. "How did Hermione’s bum feel? We always imagined…" Ron’s hand around his throat stifled the rest of his remark.

"Hermione’s bum, or any part of her is none of your damn business!" He whispered savagely. "She’s not like the tarts you guys have been hiring as shop assistants and shagging during lunch."

"Ron." George’s voice was soft. "Let him go. We were out of line."

"Blimey!" croaked Fred as Ron released him. "You’ve gotten strong."

"I’m sorry." Ron said holding out the sack of Galleons to Fred. "Hermione’s special."

"We know." Said Fred still rubbing his throat. He pointedly ignored the sack. "Let’s go in there shall we."

There was a small shop, specializing in scarves and wraps. Fred led the way to the back. "I was in here the other day and I found something very nice for my GIRLFRIEND."

"Sorry." Ron said sheepishly.

"Here it is." Fred pulled out a golden red headscarf with a lion embossed on it. He turned to the shelf next to it. "Hey the sarongs are new." Fred grabbed one and glanced up at George, who nodded and he grabbed another two.

"Gryffindors." said the shop assistant. "You’re always so proud of your colours. Is this your brother Fred?"

"Yeah Marsha, this is our baby brother Ron." Said Fred.

"Just got himself a girlfriend." Continued George.

"Spending the summer with her then?"

Ron nodded.

"How about a matching bathing suit?"

Ron’s mouth went dry again as he contemplated the rack of Bikini’s indicated by Marsha. In his mind’s eye he tried to picture Hermione in one of them. Her legs entirely visible, a bare tummy, her hair cascading over her shoulders, his mind’s eye gave up the fight entirely and shut down completely.

George noticed and gently steered Ron away to a more innocuous rack. "Perhaps a one piece." He said. "His girl’s a bit modest for one of those."

His mind’s eye had only partially recovered when he arrived back at the Granger’s living room.

"Ronald! Where have you been?" Hermione continued to berate him as her mother vacuumed him off. Hermione paused only to wet the end of a tissue with her tongue in order wipe a persistent spot from his nose.

"Have they hexed you?" she asked. "Did you fight with them?" Hermione stamped her foot. "Heaven help them if they’ve hurt you, I’ll…."

"No, no." He said vaguely. "They were really nice." He held out the packet with his purchases. "These are for you."

Hermione eyed the packet suspiciously. "They’re supposed to be from me." He said. "But really they’re from the twins." He shook the packet. "Go on." He said. "They’re safe, I watched them buy it all."

Gingerly Hermione went through the packet. She paused at the bathing suit. "How did you know my size?" she asked.

"It’s charmed." Ron said. "Flattering to all shapes and sizes." Ron blushed. "Including maternity. They bought one for Mum as well. George said you would prefer a full piece rather than a bikini."

"It’s very bright." Said Sylvia Granger. "Very cheery."

"Would you like us to get you one Mrs. Granger?" Ron’s blush deepened.

"That’s very thoughtful Ron. It’s never too early to start buttering up your future mother-in-law. Just don’t forget Hermione. I remember how frustrating it was when Dennis kept on bring my mother flowers, and forgot about poor little me." Sylvia kissed Ron on the cheek and left the room.

"I wasn’t." He said. "I mean…I thought it would be nice."

Hermione smiled. "It was Ron, Mum was only joking with you." She turned back to the bag. "Why did the twins give me this stuff? I mean it’s very nice, especially the bathing suit, but I don’t understand why they did it."

"It seems they genuinely like you."

"It just seems to out of character for them."

"They’re giving us a free pass until Harry’s birthday."

"Harry." Hermione suddenly sat down. "Today’s been so crazy. I’d completely forgotten about him."

"We could go visit him." Ron said. "Take the knight bus."

"We could just phone him." said Hermione brightly.

"Do you think they’d let us speak to him. I mean after the last time I tried."

"That was years ago. I’m sure they will have forgotten. Besides I’ll talk this time, your telephone manner is still a little…eccentric. Come on."

Before Ron could protest Hermione had dragged him into the kitchen when her mom was preparing supper.

"Mum can we phone Harry?"

"Phone away dear." Said Sylvia Granger gesturing to the cordless phone with a paring knife.

"Mum we’re just going to go up to my room."

"You know the rules dear. No closed doors."

Hermione, phone in hand, stopped dead. "What rules?"

"The ones that came into effect when you got a boyfriend."

"Mum!"

"Don’t ‘Mum’ me dear. Your father came up with the rules when you were born. He’s delighted to be putting them into effect."

"Honestly!" muttered Hermione. "It’s worse than school." And she stalked out of the kitchen.

"The rules aren’t a reflection on you personally Ron. I hope you understand that."

"I do Mrs. Grang…"

"RONALD!"

Ron flashed a grin at Sylvia, and exited the kitchen to find Hermione at the foot of the stair, tapping her foot in a familiar fashion.

"They’re acting like we’re children." She said.

"Does it make any difference?" Ron said. "We weren’t planning on doing anything anyway."

"It’s the principal Ronald. Why should we be dictated to like this?"

"What about Harry.?"

Hermione looked guiltily at the phone in her hand. "Oh!"

"Do you know his number?"

"I’ve got it written down in my phone book. Come on."

Ron paused in the doorway as Hermione entered. For the first time he took in Hermione’s sleeping quarters. Three of the walls were sky blue, stark, bare of adornment, an extraordinary contrast to his bedroom at the Burrow. The fourth side was a bookcase stretching between the walls and to the ceiling.

"You can come it Ron. There are no charms or alarms." She snorted. "Not unless Daddy’s fitted something this afternoon."

Ron stepped gingerly into the room, he noticed the headboard of the small bed had a smattering of pictures on stuck onto it. They were all of him, though occasionally Harry appeared along side him. There was even one of him in the Quidditch locker room, dressed only in a towel.

"How did you get that!" Ron asked. "Colin said he had burnt it." He looked closely at it again. "Harry’s been cut off." Hermione was scrabbling through scraps of parchment on her desk.

"Colin sold it to me that way." She blushed. "He said he had another buyer for Harry." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think Ginny bought it."

"That’s just wrong." Ron said. "Girls perving like this. It’s unnatural."

"Oh shush Ron. Colin told he had sold you his photo of me at the Yule ball. Ah huh!" Hermione seemed to have found what she was looking for, and punched the number into the phone.

"But you’re not half naked in the photo!"

"Not my problem Ron…..Hello? My name is Hermione Granger, I’m calling for Harry Potter."

"No I’m not his girlfriend."

"No, I’m not interested."

"Could I just speak to Harry?" Ron detected frustration entering her voice.

"WHAT!"

"YOU, YOU, PIG!" Hermione broke the connection with the heel of her hand against the phone.

"That…That…pig!"

"What’s wrong?" Ron asked. "What happened?" Ron grasped her hands together.

"Harry’s cousin Dudley. First he asked if I was Harry’s girlfriend, then he started making obscene suggestions."

"Like what?"

"Ron he was disgusting. He said I should come over so he could sort me out."

"Sort you out?"

"You know…" Hermione blushed again, and Ron could feel the blood pumping through his head.

"Oh! He did? Did he?"

"Ron?"

"I think we’ll go visit Harry tomorrow, and if we see Dudley…"

"What?"

"I’ll sort him out." Ron said grimly.

 

To be continued  



	7. The Catcher and The Wry

  
Author's notes: Talking to Doctor Granger...will it be like pulling teeth?  


* * *

"Great nosh Mrs. G." Hermione looked up at Ron, her eyes narrowing. "er..I mean thank you for a lovely supper Mrs. Granger."

Sylvia Granger allowed a wry smile to cross her lips. "I understood you the first time Ron. Thank you." She turned to Dennis Granger. "It’s nice that someone appreciates my cooking."

"Darling. It’s so difficult to compliment perfection. One runs out of words."

"I know how that is." Ron said, and across the table from him Hermione rolled her eyes.

Dennis stood up and walked around the table. "Hermione would you mind helping your mother with the dishes? I’d like to have a little chat with Ron here." Ron felt a firm hand on his shoulder. "Man to Man." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, and Ron shook his head.

"Sure Dad."

"Let sit outside Ron, it’s such a lovely evening."

Ron followed Hermione’s father out into the back yard. This was, he realized, a rite of passage, something that all young men had to go through at one time or another, unless they were fortunate to favour an orphan girl. Ron felt he would much rather be talking to giant spiders in the forbidden forest.

"Sit down Ron." Said Dennis indicating some lawn furniture. Ron took a chair opposite Hermione’s father, his back to the house. "Don’t worry son, it’s not like this is a visit to the dentist."

Ron felt certain that he should laugh, the sentence had been delivered in the manner of a joke. "I’m sorry sir, I don’t understand, I thought you were a dentist?"

Dennis stared at Ron for a moment. "Perhaps Hermione should explain that to you." Ron nodded.

"Do you have dreams about my daughter Ron?"

Ron turned bright red, so much so that he could feel his cheeks burning, but Dennis didn’t seem to notice Ron’s discomfort, he didn’t seem to be look at Ron at all, but rather his attention seemed fixed on the house behind him. Before Ron could muster a reply he continued.

"Do you see yourself with her in say five or ten or fifty years?" Dennis shook his head. "I saw her mother like that, in that house. We wanted to fill it with children." He chuckled. "Not as many as your parents, but perhaps three, maybe four. Instead we were bloody lucky to have Hermione. Bloody lucky. Doctors said she was a miracle."

His attention switched to Ron. "So you see Ron, I treasure my daughter very much." He looked again past Ron’s shoulder. "We kept the house you see, because it’s so very difficult to give up a dream."

Ron nodded uncertain what to say.

"There was always a chance of grandchildren as well. If Hermione met a nice young man, grandchildren would fill the place up nicely."

Ron swallowed. "A hundred years." He said.

"What?"

"I see myself with her in a hundred years, with children and grandchildren. If she’ll put up with me for that long."

"The problem Ronald, is that she’s a bit besotted with you, so she probably will."

"I…I…"

"What I’m trying to determine, the whole purpose of this conversation Ron, is whether I should entrust you with my daughter’s heart?"

"Sir?"

"A young woman’s heart is a fragile thing Ron."

Ron mind swept back all the times he had hurt Hermione, all the times he had caused her to cry, to be disappointed. His problem was that he didn’t know how he did it, or why he did it, he just knew that he did, and every time he did, every time he saw the hurt in her eyes, it felt like a part of him was dying.

"I hurt her." He said. "I don’t mean to, it just happens." Ron looked down, unwilling to meet Dennis’s eyes.

"You’ll never stop." Dennis said. "Even after twenty three years of marriage I still go to bed some nights knowing I’ve hurt Sylvia, and I don’t know why." He sighed. "Just remember Ron, knowing you’ve done it. That’s the first step to putting the pieces back together."

"I wish I knew how to do that."

Dennis leant forward and gently slapped Ron on the shoulder. "Cheer up boy! Things are looking good for you so far."

"They are?"

"You haven’t made any promises you can’t keep have you?"

Ron shook his head. "No sir."

"Good, now relax and tell me about your career prospects."

"I thought I might become a teacher."

Dennis frowned. "That’s new isn’t it? Hermione said you were thinking of becoming a policeman of some sort."

"That was really Harry’s dream, I hadn’t even considered teaching until Professor McGonagall suggested it."

"So you fancy it?"

"It’s helping people, only at the very beginning."

"Molding young minds?"

"Something like that."

"My father was a teacher Ron."

"Hermione’s grandfather."

"That’s usually how it works."

"I’m sorry sir. It’s just that she’s never mentioned him."

"Not much reason she should Ron. She’s never met him."

"Oh I’m sorry sir."

"Oh he’s not dead Ron, far to stubborn to die, he lives in Australia." Dennis Granger leant forward. "He’s her namesake you know."

"Namesake?"

"Herman Granger"

*

Hermione cocked her head. "That’s Ron’s laugh." She turned to her mother. "That’s a good sign isn’t it?"

"I’m sure it is?"

"You think I’m being silly?"

Sylvia Granger smiled and shook her head.

"You think this is a silly crush."

"You know Ron too well to have a silly crush on him." Sylvia Granger patted a kitchen chair. "Sit down, and I’ll tell you how you feel about Ron."

She continued as Hermione sat down. "He’s the first person you think of when you wake up. The thing you want most in the world is the smile he gives you when he first sees you. If someone hurts him, you feel hurt, if he’s struggling you want help him." Sylvia paused. "Sound familiar?"

Hermione nodded.

"You don’t want to appear weak in front of him, but he makes you weak at the knees."

"I don’t want him to have to protect me, but it makes me feel so good when he does."

"You’ve been afraid to touch him, because you’re not sure of yourself."

"I’ve yearned for his touch." Hermione blushed. "I’ve tried to make him jealous, even though I know it’s wrong."

"Then I guess you’re in love." Sylvia took Hermione’s hand. "I remember when I started feeling this way about a boy."

"What happened to him mum, that boy?"

"He grew into a handsome man."

"I mean where is he now? What’s he doing?"

"Last I looked he was in the garden trying to put the fear of god into your new boyfriend."

"Mum!"

Both women laughed, even as Dennis Granger’s voice could be heard drifting through the door. "…And I don’t want to ever catch you with your hands on my daughter’s buttocks. Is that clear?"

"Crystal Sir." Ron caught Hermione’s eye and winked. "You’ll never catch me."

 

 


	8. Sorted

**Take It Back Part 8 : Sorted**

**By alloy.**

"Get the door, boy!"

Harry sighed. His annual sojourn at number four, Privet Drive was going pretty much to form.

"Boy, the door!"

"It wouldn't be so bad," Harry thought if they paid him to be the servant they obviously wanted him to be.

The doorbell rang again.

"BOY!"

Not that he needed the money, but there was a certain principal involved…..Harry yanked the door open.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry stood dumfounded.

Ron and Hermione stood before him, but not the Ron and Hermione as Harry had ever expected them to be.

Ron had his arm draped casually over Hermione's shoulder. She in turn was tucked under his arm, her arm around his waist.

"BOY! Who is it?"

There was a woman behind Harry's friends whom he recognized to be Hermione's mother.

Heavy footsteps behind Harry signaled his uncle’s emergence.

“Honestly, Boy! If you….”

“Vernon Dursley, I presume?”

‘She sounds very much like Hermione,’ Harry thought.

“Sylvia Granger.”

Hermione’s mum slipped past Ron and her daughter to hold a hand out to Harry’s Uncle.

“Heard so much about you; very pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

Uncle Vernon had little choice but to take her hand.

Harry turned desperately to his friends for clarity, and was rewarded by a wink from Hermione.

Ron gestured with his hand, and Harry realized that Hermione’s mother had barged into the house and his uncle had followed in a rather befuddled fashion.

“You must be so very proud of Harry,” Sylvia continued. “I know we are of Hermione.”

“As you know, it’s so difficult raising a magical person,” Sylvia laughed. “Of course Molly and Arthur have seven, but being magical themselves must help tremendously.”

Uncle Vernon was making throat clearing noises, but Sylvia ignored him totally and babbled on.

“We are so lucky that Harry and Hermione found Ron and the Weasleys. Dennis… that’s my husband… and I were so concerned about Hermione making the right sort of friends at school.”

“Well yes,” Vernon said, “Um…ah.”

“Of course, now young Ron and Hermione are a bit more than friends.”

Harry looked at his friends. They were still smiling, seemingly locked together at the hips.

“Come on,” he said, dragging them through the kitchen into the back garden.

Much to his relief, their hips separated as Ron allowed Hermione through the door.

For the first time Harry noticed that Hermione, usually clad in frumpy school uniform, was dressed today in tight fitting jeans which showed off her figure. He also noticed Ron’s hand on her waist.

“What’s this about then?” Harry asked.

“What’s what about?” Hermione replied.

“This,” Harry gestured toward them, “That?” and then into the house.

Despite blushing crimson, Ron pulled Hermione close toward him. “Well, Harry,” he said. “I’vefanciedHermioneforawhilenow.”

“What?”

“I’vefanciedHermioneforaooooooph!”

Hermione had elbowed Ron in the stomach.

“What my boyfriend is trying to say, Harry, is that Ronald and I have been attracted to each other for quite some time.”

Hermione was blushing furiously now.

“I finally got the guts to tell her.”

Hermione raised her hand to cover the back of her neck. “Ron was rather…romantic…Harry.”

“Ron?” Harry laughed. “Ron? Romantic!”

“Yes, Harry. Romantic…. It’s something a girl responds very well to.” Hermione’s tone was icy and Harry noticed the almost imperceptible shake of Ron’s head that was directed at him.

“So you’re together now?” Harry asked.

His friends nodded. Truth be told Harry didn’t really want the details.

“No more having a go at each other all the time, then?”

Ron laughed. “Don’t be daft, Harry. Don’t you have any idea how much fun it is to get Hermione all riled up?”

Harry anticipated a loud vocal response from Hermione, but instead she reached up, grabbed a lock of Ron’s hair, and guided him down so that she could whisper in his ear.”

“Yeah you’re right, Luv,” Ron murmured.

“We wanted you to be the first to know, Harry,” Hermione said.

“The very first,” Ron said. “Unless you count Mum and Ginny and the twins…”

“And of course my parents,” said Hermione.

“Lee Jordan…” Ron continued, “Probably half of Diagon Alley.”

“Ginny,” Hermione interrupted, “Is somewhat of a gossip.”

“But why is your mum here?” Harry said.

“Well,” Ron said. “After we tried to phone...”

“Hold on. You tried to phone?”

“I tried to phone,” Hermione said, “Yesterday.”

Harry’s mouth went dry. “Dudley said something about my girlfriend…..”

“Yes. He answered the phone, Harry," Ron clenched his teeth, "and he had better not talk that way to Hermione again.”

“He was rather obscene, Harry.”

“Which is why Hermione’s mum drove us here today.”

“She didn’t want Ron to get you into trouble again.”

“I told you, Hermione, I don’t need magic to deal with Dudley.”

Hermione pointedly ignored Ron’s last comment.

“So Mum decided to come down and have a chat with your uncle.”

“HARRY!”

Harry started. His uncle was addressing him by his given name.

“Harry, My Boy.”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon?” he called back.

“Be a good…” Uncle Vernon seemed to choke for a moment, “lad…and make us a pot of tea.”

“Yes Uncle.” Harry looked back at his friends who both shrugged and gestured for him to enter the house.

Hermione’s mother was still talking up a storm when they reached the living room.

“As I said before, Vernon, I’m so pleased that these two young people have found each other.”

Harry busied himself preparing the tea, yet still keeping one ear open.

“Dennis and I were their age when we first found each other. Molly and Arthur were too and of course Harry’s parents.”

“Ummmmmm”

“But of course you know all about Harry’s parents. You and Petunia were long married by that time, hey.”

Sylvia sighed, shaking her head, “Such a tragedy.”

“Still Harry turned out alright. Only a couple of more years and you’ll be out of the woods.”

“Ummmm… out of the woods?”

"With the teen years. Puberty is bad enough with normal children, but our lot...." Sylvia let her sentence hang. "...Problems."

"Problems?"

“Spontaneous adolescent magic. We haven’t had any problems with Hermione, of course, but Molly says it’s worse with boys.”

“Spontaneous?” Vernon said.

“Oh yes, completely uncontrollable. Setting fire to things, Trans….Trans…figeration.” Sylvia paused and called loudly, “Hermione, that is the word, darling, ‘transfiguration?’”

Hermione grinned at Harry and called back. “Yes, Mum, ‘transfiguration.’”

“It’s the anger,” Sylvia said. “Teenagers are so full of it. Molly’s had a torrid time with Ron.”

Harry noted the large smile on Ron’s face as he stepped past him to place the tea tray on the table in the centre of the living room.

“Which is why I thought I would have a chat with you about your boy, Dudley.”

There was a gaping silence, and then…

“Dudley?” Aunt Petunia said. “What’s Dudley got to do with anything?”

“So glad you asked, Petunia, so very glad you asked.”

“Your Dudley was rather rude to Hermione when she...”

Uncle Vernon’s laugh was forced. “Young men have high spirits,” he said. “I’m sure Dudley meant nothing by it.”

Sylvia Granger waved her hand dismissively. “I’m sure he didn’t, Vernon, I’m sure he didn’t. Problem is he made young Ron angry.”

Sylvia continued in the sort of conspiratorial whisper that could be heard for miles around. “We had a terrible time calming him down last night, simply terrible time. Arthur was able to repair the chandelier, but really, there’s simply no telling what he could do to Dudley without even realizing it.

“But…but,” Uncle Vernon spluttered. “There are laws; they’re not permitted to perform magic outside school.”

“They can’t help it, Vernon, can’t help it at all. Why I remember the time Hermione changed the colour of her bedroom walls while dreaming.”

Uncle Vernon was swallowing hard, clawing at his collar.

“It was a lovely colour, of course, but she doesn’t know how she did it.” Sylvia’s voice lowered into the whisper again, “And one can’t inquire too closely as to the content of an adolescent girl’s dreams can one.”

Hermione, Harry noticed was blushing profusely.

“That really happened?” he asked.

Hermione nodded. “And I’m not telling you about the dream.” She turned to Ron, “Either of you.”

“Molly’s lost count of all the breakages with all her boys.”

“Er… exactly how many does she have?” Harry’s aunt’s voice sounded brittle.

“Oh, Molly has seven, all told; six boys and a girl. Can you imagine? Of course only Ron and Ginny are still in school. But they’re all very close. It something Hermione loves about the family.”

Harry noted that Hermione's blush deepened.

“They all stand together.”

“Very… ummmm… admirable,” Uncle Vernon said, though his tone said otherwise.

“So you understand why Dudley needs to apologize to Hermione: for his own safety.”

“I don’t think…..”

“No telling what might happen to him otherwise.”

“Look, you can’t just….”

“Oh and of course, Harry is very close to Hermione as well. If she were to tell him what she told me….”

Sylvia paused dramatically. “Goodness knows.”

“Dudley.”

Harry appeared from the other room where he had been clearly eavesdropping.

“Dudley. I think perhaps it might be a good idea….”

“I won’t!” Despite his defiance, Dudley looked pale.

“Dudley. This really isn’t the time.”

“No!”

“It’s habit,” Harry whispered to his friends.

Suddenly Ron spoke up loudly. “I’m so angry, Harry.” He grinned and Hermione struggled to stifle a giggle. “It’s worse than last time.”

“You need to stay calm, Ron,” Hermione said.

“Dudley.” Aunt Petunia’s voice was now firm and icy. “You will apologize to Miss Granger. NOW!”

“Hermione, dear, I believe Dudley has something to say to you.”

Hermione left them, and struggling not to laugh, Harry led Ron outside again.

They leant against the wall; their bodies shuddering with silent mirth.

“Thanks, Mate,” Harry said. “I really needed that.”

“I reckon Dudley needed it, too,” Ron replied.

Harry chuckled again.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“You never fancied Hermione, did you?”

Harry shook his head, somewhat bemused by the question.

Ron drew a deep breath, “’Cause I’ve fancied her for simply ages.”

It was as if a puzzle piece had suddenly fitted into place.

Ron and Hermione… Hermione and Ron.

His two best friends; he had never really thought of them as anything more than that.

But to each other? Could they even be friends without him?

The answer, it seemed was ‘yes,’ a lot more than friends.

“Ron.”

“Yeah?”

“Hermione’s a girl, right? But…um” Harry licked his lips. “She’s also a mate.” Harry felt like he was swimming through thick mud, trying to find the right words.

“Not just a girl…um.”

“Not just a girl, Harry,” Ron said.

“Well, Ron, what I’m trying to say is…”

Ron interrupted him. “I think I just had this talk with her dad, Harry.”

“It’s all arranged.” Ron cleared his throat. “An autumn wedding, Muggle style; you’ll be best man of course. Mum says it’s best to be married before the babies arrive…..oooph.”

Harry elbowed Ron in the stomach and both boys laughed again.

“What’s so funny?”

"Nothing!" The two boy's voices emerged as one.

Hermione shook her head. "Boys!" But she wrapped arms around Ron. "I'm sorry, Harry, but we have to leave soon. Mum's got a meeting to get to."

"That's okay," Harry said. "I didn't expect this at all." He gestured toward the pair of them, "Any of this."

"I hope we're not making you uncomfortable, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione. I think it's great.

Hermione slipped away from Ron and gave Harry a quick hug. "We'll phone again. Maybe after your birthday Professor Dumbledore will let you come to my house."

"Maybe," Harry agreed and he led them back through the house. Hermione's mother was at the front door shaking Vernon Dursley's hand.

"We really must do this again, Vernon. Perhaps you can bring Harry over to our place." Sylvia Granger grinned, "Dudley too, of course."

Harry couldn't see Dudley, but both his uncle and aunt were wearing strained expressions.

Ron marched up to Harry's uncle and held out his hand. "Good to see you again, Sir."

Vernon Dursley took Ron's hand with the enthusiasm of a man petting a crocodile and released it almost immediately.

They climbed into Mrs. Granger's grey Volvo; Hermione climbing into the back alongside Ron.

Only then did Dudley materialize, appearing from the side of the house.

Then, as the car pulled off, Ron stuck his head out the window.

"BOO!"

Dudley jumped back, tripping over his own feet and ended up sitting in his mother's flower bed.

Harry stifled his laughter as his aunt rushed to assist her wayward son.

Seems that Ron had sorted Dudley out after all.

*********

Epilogue.

Hermione tried to scold Ron for his childishness, but neither her nor her mother could stifle their laughter. Instead, she looked out the back window waving at her friend.

When a madly grinning Harry had disappeared from view, Hermione turned around and slid closer to Ron.

The past few days raced through Hermione's mind; Ron asking for her phone number, Ron's bizarre messages, Ron's unexpected kiss that had said so much.

"I can't take it back," Ron had said.

He couldn't.

"You can't," Hermione said.

"I won't let you."

"What's that, Luv?"

Hermione used her index finger to turn Ron's face toward her.

"Take it back."

The End.

Authors note:

HUGE big thanks to Linda for the encouragement to write more than one episode and to Sandy for her Beta work and to everyone who’s read and reviewed. Hope you’ve enjoyed it. I can’t take it back now. ;-P


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